Orphan Train
by Pmp2a-Trish
Summary: Heyes and the Kid are hired to guard an orphan train to northern Wyoming. Not long into the trip, they realize not all is as it seems...


Orphan Train

"Kid." Heyes stressed, quietly.

"Heyes, don't be telling me what to do."

Heyes had a firm grip on his arm, holding him tightly, keeping him from walking across the restaurant, keeping him from making a scene, keeping him from threatening their identities.

"Kid, whatever is going on over there has nothin' to do with us – let's keep it that way."

"If he lays one more hand on…"

"His _wife_."

"Married or not, a man doesn't treat a woman that way."

Heyes took a glance back. They were still there. The brute was still towering over her, his voice was still low, but his demeanor spoke volumes. She sat at the table, shaking, trying to both appease him with her attention, while equally trying to reassure anyone that glanced her way that she was fine. Just as he was about to remind his partner that it was against their best interests to intervene, the man's hand went across her cheek in quick fashion. "Go." He stated simply to his partner as he released his arm.

He stood back as he watched the Kid work. He watched as he pulled the man away from her and gave him a brief lesson on gentlemanly behavior that ended with his fist being put through the man's jaw. As the fight escalated, those in the restaurant made room for the two to move. Each landed impressive hits to the jaw, the chest, the belly. The woman ran out of the establishment, crying. As word went into the street, the sheriff stormed through the door, his gun unholstered. He pulled Kid up by the arm, while the deputy restrained the brute.

"Alright, alright. That's about enough. Somebody want to tell me what's going on?"

Kid remained silent.

"He thinks he can come in here and tell me how I should treat Pam."

The sheriff smirked. "Thompson, I've seen how you treat Pam, I have a suspicion this fella and I wouldn't disagree." He let go of the Kid. "Why don't you go on home, sleep off whatever you've had to drink tonight. If you know what's good for you, you'll spend your evening on the couch."

As they watched him leave the room, Heyes joined the two men.

"'Preciate it Sheriff." Kid said.

"Don't mention it. Thompson's had a tough life, his pa would beat him and his ma pretty regular. Guess he just learned that was how you made a marriage work. That don't make no good reason, and I don't make no excuses, but that is just how it is. It also don't help that Pam won't leave him. Trust me, half the town has tried to get her to." He took a moment and looked at each of the outlaws. "You two just passing through?"

"Uh, yes sir." Heyes spoke up. "We just finished up a cattle drive, figured we'd get some rest before moving on."

"Well, if there is anything I can do for the two of you, just let me know."

"Yes sir." "We will." They spoke in unison as they watched him leave the restaurant and proceed back to his office.

* * *

Kid winced slightly as he bit down on the piece of bacon in his hand.

Heyes couldn't help but chuckle, "One day you're gonna let me teach you how to fight."

"Oh, you can fight?" He asked, irritated, "Funny, you never seem too eager to step in."

"Well, I figure you need the practice, you only get better with it. Judgin' by last night, you need a lot of practice." Ignoring the dirty look he quite promptly received, he turned his attention to finishing up his own breakfast, barely noticing the sheriff walking through the restaurant.

"Boys, mind if I have a minute of your time?"

Taking a pained glance at one another, they quickly smiled and motioned toward the empty seat between them.

"How can we help you, Sheriff?"

"I know you two mentioned that you were in town to rest up, but after I left last night, I couldn't get the two of you out of my head. I have a job that I think could use your particular skills."

"_Our_ particular skills?" Kid questioned, quickly receiving a look of warning from his partner.

"Last night you stood up for a woman you had never met, at great risk to yourself. That shows character. And judging by the condition of your gun belts, I imagine you can handle yourself if things get a little rough."

"Exactly what kind of job is this, Sheriff?" Heyes asked, carefully.

"Tomorrow morning we have a train leaving out that could use some protection."

Heyes leaned closer, "What, exactly, will the train be carrying?"

"Orphans, it's an orphan train going up to northern Wyoming."

"Orphans?" Heyes parroted.

"Well, there's a little more to it than that. If you two agree to the job, I'll tell you the rest. It pays $250, if everything arrives safely."

"Two-fifty," Kid paused, "Each?"

"Yes sir, two-fifty each."

Taking a moment, the outlaws looked towards each other. With a subtle nod, they agreed.

"Alright. Meet me in my office in an hour and I'll fill you in on the details. Can't be too careful in these parts." With a nod, the sheriff stood and walked out.

* * *

As they entered the sheriff's office, they did a quick glance around. The cells, just to their left were empty, void of anyone that could possibly recognize them. Behind the desk was a rack of rifles, right next to a wall of wanted posters. Right dab in the middle, in the biggest of letters, were their own names staring back at them. Heyes couldn't help but let out a light groan. Granted, they had been quite successful in alleviating the banks and railroads of a substantial amount of their property, but weren't there worse outlaws out there that would better deserve such a prominent spot on a sheriff's wall? Determined to not let his eyes wander back to the board, he focused on the sheriff as he stood and greeted each man, directing them to sit in the chairs in front of his desk.

"Good to see you boys didn't change your minds." He smiled.

"We thought about it, but it isn't every day we get offered $500 to ride a train."

"Well, it's a little more complicated than that, thus the $500."

"That's what we figured." Kid interjected.

"You said you'd tell us the rest…?"

"That I did. The orphans riding on the train are being transferred from an orphanage over in Cheyenne. The local homes are about busting at the seams. Sadly, it seems this territory has gotten mighty good at producing just two things, orphans and outlaws."

Nervously, they laughed as they felt the heat rise on their necks.

"Anyways, the local orphanages have just plum run out of room. So, a grant was issued to build a brand new, state of the art building just north of Sheridan. In addition to the young boys, this train will be carrying that grant - a quarter of a million dollars. Now, I'm not sure how familiar you are with these parts, but I hate to say Wyoming has more than its share of outlaw gangs. The worst of which being Devil's Hole. The good news is that the orphans will be the least of your worries. Despite their reputation, we have no reason to believe that if that particular gang strikes that they would harm any of the passengers. They, of course, would be more interested in what's in the safe, so it will be your job to protect the grant money."

"Which safe are they using?" Heyes asked, nonchalantly.

"I'm not rightly sure, but I think I heard it was a Pierce & Hamilton."

"Well, Sheriff a P&H…" before he could finish, Heyes grabbed his arm, stopping him mid-sentence.

"Is a good safe, so we've heard." Heyes finished, casting a cautionary glance at his partner.

"That's good to hear. Now, I wish I could deputize ya, but bein' that we're not tryin' to bring attention to ourselves, I think it would be best not to." He pulled out a couple of pieces of paper. "Now to make this all official, these are your agreements. Read them over. All it says is that you agree to protect the contents of the safe while in transit from here to Sheridan. In return, you will each be paid $250 once you safely reach your destination." He handed each man the paper. "Just sign your names at the bottom."

Hesitantly, and with a glance to the other, they slowly signed their names, Thaddeus Jones and Joshua Smith, to the bottom of the papers and handed them back.

"Great, get a good night's sleep, the bank will be transferring the safe first thing in the morning – I'd like you to be there when it does."

* * *

Little hands, little feet, little voices, they were everywhere. As they loaded their saddle bags into the baggage car, they both looked down towards the passenger car. There had to be at least thirty of them, none looked older than eleven, none younger than five. The women in charge continually struggled to contain them. "Like herdin' cats." Kid remarked as a fair-haired child made another sprint away from the group. With a chuckle, Heyes agreed.

"Makes rustlin' cattle seem easy, don't it?"

He nodded affirmatively, "You figure out what you're gonna do if Wheat and the boys come out of Devil's Hole?"

Thinking for a moment, he nodded yes, "A couple of ideas, just haven't settled on one yet."

Just as they were preparing to enter the baggage car, one of the women from the orphanage approached, they removed their hats in quick order.

"You must be Mr. Jones and Mr. Smith?" She asked, her eyes landing on the Kid.

"Yes ma'am. I'm Thaddeus Jones, this is my partner, Joshua Smith."

She smiled. "My name is Ms. Andrews. It is a pleasure to have you accompany us to Sheridan. I understand that it has been requested that you remain in the car with the safe for most of the journey." Each nodded affirmatively. "Yes. Well, we will be serving breakfast each morning at 9, lunch at 12 and dinner at 5, promptly. Unfortunately, with a train full of children this trip is going to take a bit longer than it would without. We have made the request that we stop at regular intervals to allow the boys a moment of fresh air. We will also be stopping each evening."

"Why is that, ma'am?"

"Well, Mr. Smith, a moving train car doesn't make for a very comfortable sleeping environment. Especially not for a parcel of young children. This will allow the boys to be fully rested before we arrive at our destination. If you have any questions, or concerns, please come to me and I will address them with the others."

Without another word, she turned and went back towards the children.

* * *

Stretched out across the cot, Kid looked up at the ceiling of the train car. They had stopped just an hour earlier. Dinner had been served, just as promised. With one hand on his stomach, he felt it protrude just a bit. Breakfast had been loaded with eggs, biscuits, bacon, and ham. Lunch was equally hardy, breads, meats, vegetables. Dinner was the best of all, chicken, potatoes, gravy, and his favorite – dessert. "Orphanages sure have changed. I think I ate more today, than I ate in a year back in Kansas."

"Doesn't that make you nervous?"

Sitting up, he looked across the room. In front of the Pierce & Hamilton safe Heyes sat upon a chair, turning the dial, his ear pressed tightly against the door. "What are you doing?"

With a look of irritation, he glanced up, "What do you think I'm doing?"

Crossing the car in two strides, Kid leaned up against the safe. "It's a P&H, you can't get into these, remember?"

Promptly ignoring his partner, he continued to work.

"Why should being fed good make me nervous?"

Abandoning his pursuit, Heyes spun the dial. "Kid, did you not look at those boys?"

He shrugged.

"Did you see a one of them that looked hungry? You remember how it was. Kids were always hungry, even if they weren't – they still looked it."

"Maybe things are different."

"Do you remember when Lobo and I went to Lincoln to check out that bank?"

"Yeah."

"An orphan train rolled in. We watched as they took the kids over to the church. It was just like when we were kids. Each one wore nothin' but rags and looked like they hadn't eaten in a week, and their eyes…"

"What about them?"

"They were empty."

Kid closed his own eyes, not wanting to remember that look. It was a look he had forgotten. It was the look of a child that had lost everything. Rubbing his right hand, he could still feel the scar he received when he broke the first mirror that had the look staring back at him.

"Did you see that look today? In any of those kids? Any one of them?"

"Maybe it's where they come from. Maybe they've been treated better. They definitely get fed better." He chuckled.

"Kid, there's something wrong about this job. There was something in what we signed…" Standing, he started to pace.

"Just said that we'd protect the money."

"No, it said we'd protect all of the contents in the safe." He rested his hands against the safe, vainly willing it to reveal its secrets. "How big do you think this is?"

Walking around, he took in its dimensions, "About four feet tall, three feet deep, same wide."

"Exactly. How much space do you think a quarter of a million dollars would take up?

"Half, maybe, depends on what it's made of?"

"I remember every safe we opened. There wasn't one train that carried anything smaller than a 20 dollar bill."

"Alright, you got a point. So, what else is in there?"

"I don't know, but I intend to find out."

"Well, while you're trying to figure that out, what about Devil's Hole?"

"I'm still working on it."

"So have I. The way I figure it, we got about two days. The train should make a water stop just outside Harris Crossing. I saw in the paper that some storms rolled through there last week. That will probably bring down some trees – just enough to throw across the tracks."

Heyes took a moment, and nodded in agreement.

"I figure two days will give you plenty of time to come up with a story to get those boys to walk away."

He chuckled, "One look at the P&H should do that."

* * *

"How long have you been tendin' to orphans, ma'am?" Kid asked the next morning, staring into her hazel eyes from across the table. They had stopped at a local town, just long enough to let the boys get out for some exercise. In groups of five, the boys were taken to the local General Store and allowed to buy some penny candy. Once the last group returned, lunch was served.

"I've been with the organization since it began, seven years ago."

He looked out over her charges as they wildly consumed the food in front of them. Each spoke loudly and excitedly. Heyes had been right, they were different. Not a one carried the weight of an orphan. Not a one stared blankly out at the horizon, not a one showed the signs of a trauma they could not unsee. If he would describe them at all, it would be – care-free. "Where are all these boys from?"

"Oh, Wyoming mostly. Though a few are from Nebraska. Our program focuses mostly on this part of the country."

Kid stared at her, confused. "I thought these trains brought kids from out east?"

"Oh, yes, we're a bit different. We serve our local communities. These boys are the products of…" she lowered her voice to a whisper, "unholy relationships."

Confused, he stared at her, blankly.

"Their mothers," she continued in hushed tones, "worked in saloons and equally unsavory establishments. Well, the idea of these poor children being raised among outlaws and saloon girls, now that just isn't what is best for them, or for our society, now is it? So, the company works with local churches, any woman that is willing to give her child a better opportunity, we take them in, give them a home and raise them to be productive members of society."

* * *

The ride had been down-right boring. Being stuck in the baggage car, without so much as a window to look out, was tantamount to torture.

As the trained slowed, Kid went to the door.

"It's gonna take us a week to get there at this pace." Kid grumbled as he opened the door and stared out. "If they're so worried about the money, you'd think they want to get there faster. Hell, Wheat won't even have to bother with a log."

Outside the passenger cars, he saw the boys coming out, followed by the women giving them the same instructions as each time before, "Don't run off." "Stay with a friend." "Ten minutes and we're pulling out."

The boys ran into the field, making circles. "Things sure have changed…" He muttered under his breath.

"They haven't." Heyes stood up, irritated that his work had been interrupted. "I can't work on the safe with that thing open."

Kid turned, leaning against the opening, his arms folded. "You still haven't told me why you're all fired up about getting in it."

"I did tell you. Something's not right. In fact, nothing about this job is right at all." He walked to the door and stared out as well. Except, his eyes were on the women standing guard over the children. There were five in all. They walked the perimeter of the open area, their eyes never leaving their charges. But it was how they walked. They stood straight, kept their arms locked tightly behind their backs. Their eyes were intense, watching the boys, while always looking out for a threat to come from the sides. As his eyes drifted to the boys, he noticed their play. It was rough. Pushing and shoving, rolling in the grass. Each boy was aggressive, but not so much to make an enemy of his peers. There wasn't a weak one among them. At the train, Ms. Andrews stood with her clipboard in hand, speaking with the conductor. He was sure that she was once again explaining how fresh air was good for the young men - they needed this time to let out their pent up energy, lest they destroy the interior of the train car.

"You'd think these kids were royalty."

"Sounds like you're jealous." Kid ribbed.

Heyes shot him the dirtiest look he could muster. "Jealous?"

"Yeah, that they're getting treated better than we did."

He slammed the door shut, just barely missing Kid's knee. "Christopher Becker's father died facing down a field full of Rebs. Steven Darling's folks were murdered by one of Sherman's men. But a saloon girl has a bastard kid and he gets three meals a day, candy from the General Store, and play time?"

Annoyed, he grabbed his chair again, placing his ear to the door, desperately listening for some slight sound as he turned the knob, one number at a time.

"Is that what's eating at you?"

Stopping what he was doing, he looked back at his friend. "These kids weren't abandoned 'cause their folks couldn't afford them, their folks weren't killed by the enemy, they didn't have sisters ripped away from them. Don't you want to know why they are the only ones getting a new building?"

Kid nodded, "Alright, fine. Why would they want a bunch of kids from a saloon?"

He motioned towards the safe, "That's what I'm trying to find out."

"Well, are you any closer to gettin' it open that you were yesterday?"

"I think I've got the first number. If you hadn't been snoring so loud, I might have had the second."

Laying back on the cot, he stared up at the dirty ceiling, giving Heyes a few moments to work. "Heyes, there's something that's been naggin' at me, I can't stop thinkin' about it. If these kids are from Wyoming and their pas are outlaws, what do you think the odds…?"

"I don't." He interrupted.

"You don't think there's even the slightest chance?"

"No, I don't think. In fact, I'm not thinking about that at all. We've got enough to worry about without adding that." Without another word, he pressed his ear tighter to the door.

* * *

Another full day of constant starts and stops. Another full day of watching a bunch of kids get treated better than he could have even wished for. Another full day of watching Heyes try to get into a safe that he was sure would allude him. As he sat on the cot, working on a twig he picked up the last time he went to stretch his legs, he heard the click of the safe. Looking up, and in a bit of shock, he watched as his partner swung open the heavy door. He'd done it. He'd opened a P&H 1878 without nitro.

"It only took three days." He laughed. Though he would never admit it, he was always impressed each time Heyes opened a safe. He'd tried it himself a time or two, but couldn't hear enough to get a single number.

With the lantern in hand, he held it so they had plenty of light to peer deep inside.

On the top three shelfs sat the grant money. Pulling out a stack, Heyes flipped through the bills – all 20s. The second stack – 100s. The pull of the money was undeniable. It didn't matter how long it had been since they pulled a job, the thirst would never leave their souls. Replacing the greenbacks, Kid lowered the lamp. On the bottom shelf were papers and lots of them. Motioning to the table in the corner, he instructed, "Pull that over here."

Doing as had been requested, Kid carried the table to his friend, across from his partner he sat, with the lantern resting by his side.

"PRIVATE!" In big bold letters, across the top sheet. "Authorized eyes only."

Their eyes locked, "Perhaps we should put these back?" Kid asked.

"Sure we should." He spoke as he moved the warning sheet aside and looked at the sheet underneath. He took a moment to read and then spoke, "It's a letter authorizing the grant in the amount of $250,000 to be used for the construction and upkeep of the Wayward Boys Orphanage." He read further, "The orphanage will maintain 100 beds for the boys, and an additional 50 for the staff." He looked up at the Kid.

"Two boys for every worker?"

Heyes nodded and continued down the page. As he reached the bottom, his face dropped, "Signed by Admiral Richard K. Wilkins, The United States War Department."

Kid's voice lowered, "Why does the War Department care about a bunch of orphans?"

"These kids aren't orphans, remember?"

"That still doesn't explain why?"

Heyes continued through the papers, splitting the stack in two, handing the Kid a set. Together, they combed through the documents.

A few minutes later, Kid looked up from what he was reading. "Heyes, the floorplan of the building." He set it down next to the lamp. On one end it had what they expected, a room with a hundred beds, a kitchen, a dining hall, an outdoor yard. The other side of the building had the administrative offices, the staff rooms, a weight room, something called a gymnasium, as well as a rifle range. Sharing a look of grave concern, they continued. "No classrooms." Kid voiced. "And what are training facilities?"

Heyes looked down at the sheet in his hand and read aloud. "Due to the rising tensions on our country's borders, it is vital to ensure the stability of our armed services. Upon review of the public's reaction to the conscription legislation passed by President Lincoln in 1863, specifically the riots that followed in New York and Boston, it is necessary to proactively instill a sense of patriotism in our most vulnerable citizens, thus making any future draft unnecessary." Heyes took a moment and read silently. "It is our solemn duty to take the most disadvantaged, most at-risk children and lead them to a life of purpose in the service for their country. It is this mission that everyone associated with the Wayward Boys Orphanage must pledge their allegiance." Once he had finished, he put the paper down. "Kid, this isn't an orphanage, it's a military base. They aren't raising these kids, their training them to become soldiers." Angry, he leaned back in the chair, staring off in the distance.

In his hands, Kid held two sheets of paper, "I'm not sure if you want to see this." Turning one over, he placed it in front of his friend.

Taking it, Heyes looked over it. "This is all the kids?"

"There is seventy-four on this list. Thirty have little marks by their names, I'm guessin' those are the ones onboard." He pointed at a line halfway down.

Name: Steven, age: 5, mother: Lucy G., father: Unknown (outlaw), birthplace: Harris Town.

"Doesn't mean he's…" Heyes stopped mid-sentence.

"No, it doesn't. Doesn't mean he's mine either. But I remember Ms. Lucy, I remember her leavin' the saloon all sudden-like. He could be yours, or Wheat's, or Kyle's, or any one of those boys."

"Or none of them."

"Or none of them." He parroted. "But all of these kids have one thing in common."

Heyes glanced over the list one more time. "Their pas are all outlaws."

"Their pas are all outlaws." He parroted, again. "Still can't figure out why."

Heyes took a deep breath. "If you were needing to build an army and could hand pick from all the unwanted kids in the territory, who would you choose? You'd want the kids that were tough. You'd want the kids that had fight born into them. You'd want the kids that just had that little bit extra." He stopped for a moment to think. "Can't say it's a bad idea."

"Just one problem, these kids weren't unwanted. They were bought."

Heyes scanned over the second paper handed to him. Each line had initials, the saloon girls he assumed, followed by a birthdate. At the end of each line was an amount.

"What are we going to do about this?"

"Kid, this is the U.S. Government, the War Department. Isn't it bad enough that we have half of Wyoming on our tails? Now you want to add half of the Army? The only way we know about this is because I opened that safe. If we tell anyone, there goes our amnesty."

"So, we're gonna just sit back and let them turn these kids into soldiers, send them off to fight their wars?"

Heyes leaned back in the chair, "Would you just give me a minute to think?"

Taking the stacks in hand, Kid put them back together – just as they found them, and placed them back in the safe. Lowering the lamp, he laid down, silently willing himself to find slumber, silently remaining awake as the brakes were once again applied for night. _At least,_ he thought, _they're being treated right, at least… _his mind blank, he just couldn't come up with anything else.

* * *

Looking out the door, Kid scanned the horizon, no sign of them yet. The fields around them lay barren, only a smattering of livestock here and there. If they were going to strike, it would be from the west, there was a small stream they would be able to lose any posse that might suddenly arrive. He continued to search, looking for a line of men on horses, desperately praying the gang would forgo their desires, just this one time.

Seemingly unconcerned, Heyes sat on the cot, double checking the ammunition in his revolver.

"Maybe they won't show up." Kid spoke, to no one in particular.

"They'll show."

Just as he made another scan, he felt the train lurch forward as the brakes were applied in quick fashion. Glancing back at Heyes, they shared a knowing look.

"Close the door."

Doing as instructed, he let it shut softly as he moved to the corner of the car, just next to the door. Heyes stood and placed the lamp on the safe, dimming its light. As he positioned himself against the other corner, he heard Wheat's unmistakable voice declaring, "Stand and deliver!" He struggled to suppress a groan.

His ears remained focused; focused on the sounds of doors opening, people streaming out of the passenger cars, the boots pounding on the hard dirt. As the door was roughly pushed open, Heyes watched as Wheat and Kyle climbed into the car, oblivious to the fact that they were not alone.

"Dang it Kyle!" Wheat exclaimed as his eyes fell on the P&H. "Didn't I tell Lobo we needed to bring nitro."

"But Wheat, Lobo said he didn't have the stomach to drag you back to the Hole in pieces." He looked up at his partner, innocently.

Irritated, he order, "Will you just go get the dynamite?"

"Stay where you are, Kyle." Heyes spoke.

Startled, each outlaw pulled out his gun, searching the darkness.

"Who's there?" Wheat asked.

From behind them, the sound of a hammer clicking in place reverberated around the room. "If you know what's good for you, you'll do what Heyes says."

Lowering their guns back into their holsters, Wheat and Kyle both smiled. "You two think you're gonna keep a quarter million dollars to yourselfs?" Wheat smirked.

Both coming out into the light, they smiled. "Wheat, this is a P&H '78, you should know that I can't open it without nitro. And if I can't open it, neither can you."

"Well, we brought enough dynamite to tear this whole train apart!"

"Yep, and the train is the only thing you will tear apart, 'cause it won't even scratch the paint on this P&H. Now let me tell you what you are going to do…"

* * *

Heyes stepped out of the train first, pulling Wheat down in front of him, a gun at his back. Behind him, Kid followed with Kyle. As soon as he got to the clearing, Heyes announced, "Alright boys, my name is Joshua Smith, I got the drop on your friend here. Now if you'd like to end the day in the same way you started it, I'd advise that you all put down your guns."

A look of confusion spread across the outlaws' faces. "Do what he says!" Wheat called out.

Receiving their confirmation, but still unsure, each man looked to one another before slowly placing their revolvers on the ground. Once disarmed, Kid pulled Kyle to the front, tying his hands as he sat him on the ground. Once secured, he repeated his steps with each of the other men, placing them in pairs, back to back.

Ignoring the glares at his back, Heyes approached Mr. Andrews. "Go ahead and get the boys back on the train. We'll load these men in the baggage car with us after everyone is safe on board."

"Are you sure that is best? Shouldn't we wait for a sheriff or a posse? We are due in Cody in less than an hour, surely they will realize we are late and will send someone out?"

"Ma'am. These hills are filled with outlaw gangs. The longer we sit here, the more at risk we are that another gang will come along. My partner and I got the drop on these boys, we won't be so lucky next time."

"Very well, I'll tell the conductor that we need to prepare to leave as soon as we can."

"Thank you ma'am." He tipped his hat and smiled as she made her way towards the front of the train.

With a nod from the Kid, he made his way in that direction as well.

* * *

Just as Heyes was helping Ms. Andrews into the passenger car, he heard a shot ring out. "Stay here." Leaving her behind, he ran in the direction of the gunfire, revolver in hand. Just as he got to the clearing, Kid was on the ground, a bullet wound on his shoulder. "I went to check their horses, by the time I got back, two had broke loose."

"Where are they?" From behind, Ms. Andrews ran up, rifle in hand.

"Gone."

"How did they get away? I thought you tied them?"

"Ma'am, these are outlaws. I once saw a man escape from chains right in front of a sheriff. When they know what they're doin', raw hide just can't hold 'em." Kid explained, nursing his arm.

Putting his gun back in his holster, Heyes took another glance around, "Well, they're gone now. Perhaps we can skip the next few stops. The boys can get their exercise once we get to Sheridan."

"Perhaps you are right. If we go through the night, we should be there by morning." She paused. "I'll tell the conductor."

As they watched her walk away, Heyes frowned, "I thought you told Wheat to miss?"

"I did! That's the last time I ever let anyone to take a shot at me." Touching the wound again, he winced.

"Let's get you cleaned up."

* * *

Smoke filled the dusty saloon as they patiently waited. With beers in hand, they would take a sip, only to steal a look towards the batwing doors before the glass met the table. The boys and the money had been safely delivered to Sheridan, Wyoming. Deciding it was against their interests to intervene, and with a pain in their souls, they helplessly watched as the boys were escorted away.

Unable to rid themselves of thoughts that plagued their dreams, they reached out to the only man they could trust.

"Maybe he isn't comin'." Kid spoke softly.

"He'll come."

Township, Wyoming was lawless, once a mining town – long since dried up, it now catered to outlaws and drifters. The patrons of the saloon kept to themselves, not daring to make eye contact with anyone else in the room, too cautious to start a fight, but too bold to back down from one either.

Just as Kid brought the glass back to his lips, his eyes widened. He tapped his partner's arm and pointed to the door.

A step or two into the dark room, Lom found the reformed outlaws through the smoke and dust and methodically made his way across the room – to the back corner to meet his friends.

"Of all the towns in Wyoming you could have asked to meet, this wouldn't exactly be on the top of my list." He paused behind his chair, an air of authority surrounding him. "Sheriffs aren't exactly welcome in a place like this, I hope whatever you want is worth me taking this risk."

"We wouldn't have asked if it wasn't." Kid motioned to the chair, Lom reluctantly accepted.

"Alright, what's going on?"

"It's about our last job." Heyes kept his voice low.

"What kind of job?"

"To start, an honest one. Have you heard anything about the new orphanage they're building over near Sheridan?"

"I heard something about it. Why?"

"It's more than just an orphanage." He stopped.

After a moment that lasted just a bit too long, Lom prodded, "What is it then?"

The outlaws shared a look. "There's a problem with Heyes and me filling you in on the rest."

Growing concerned, he leaned on table. "What kind of problem?"

"Heyes and I were hired to protect the money they're gonna use to build that new orphanage. And we did. Every dollar made it to Sheridan."

"That doesn't sound like a problem to me."

"The problem is, they had more than just the money in the safe."

Taking a deep breath, Lom leaned back in the chair. "Just couldn't resist the temptation?" He looked straight at his former leader.

"It's more than that, Lom. It's more than just me opening up a safe."

"Well get to it then." His frustration was building.

"The money came from the United States War Department."

"I don't quite follow."

"The orphans are being taken to a brand new training facility, they are training them to be soldiers."

"And how, exactly, do you know all this?"

"We found the documents in the safe."

Taking out his revolver, he placed it on the table in front of him, his hand around the handle, his finger just over the trigger. "I've seen government documents before. I've been sent letters that were for my eyes only. The government protects its information better than it does its money. Whatever you found was secured. Is this why you brought me here? So that no one would overhear this particular conversation?"

"No, we brought you here because there isn't a man in this room that will let you arrest us. You know that." His eyes darkened.

After a tense moment, he took a deep breath, relaxing his hand. "What do you expect me to do with this information?"

"We expect you to stop it." Kid stressed.

"How am I supposed to stop it? If I even breathe a word of this, I'd lose my badge. Do you know what happens when someone reads confidential government information?" He took a deep breath, "You can forget your amnesty. Boys, you cross the wrong person and you're looking at espionage. Forget spending the rest of your life in prison, you'll be hanged." Frustrated, he leaned back in his chair.

A look passed between the outlaws, from his breast pocket Kid pulled out a sheet of a paper and handed it to the lawman.

"What's this?"

The hastily written note was scribbled on a torn sheet of paper. "Gregory, age six. His mother was Lily Sanders of Harris Town. His father is unknown – outlaw. She was paid $100 to give him up."

His eyes widened as he stared at the paper.

"We watched as thirty boys were sent off to become soldiers. All thirty are listed as sons of outlaws. Their mas were paid anywhere from $75 - $150. They have enough beds for seventy more."

Lom took a deep breath as he continued to stare at the page. "This doesn't mean this kid is…"

"No, Lom, it doesn't." A moment passed. "But Heyes and me remember Lily. We remember how she had an eye just for you."

"We also remember her turning us down every time we invited her up to her room. Lom, she wasn't with nobody else."

"You don't know that for sure."

"No, no we don't."

Another moment passed as he stared at the paper. He laid it on the table, gently, "Alright Heyes, you always have a plan, what do you expect me to do?"

A collective breath was released from the outlaws, Heyes smiled. "We expect you to go to the Governor with what we know. Try to get him to see the wrong of what's going on. Get him to do something about it. The Kid and I will be making our way to the border. We'll send word when we can. We figure it might take about a week to get things moving. If a month has gone by and we haven't heard nothin', we'll be sending what we know to every newspaper this side of the Mississippi."

"We might even send it to a couple on the other side to, perhaps Boston, New York." Kid chimed in.

"According to those papers, the Yanks weren't too happy with Lincoln's draft, don't think they'll approve much of this either." Heyes added.

"You'll lose your amnesty." Lom warned.

"We will, but I'd be willing to bet the Governor will also lose next year's election. Besides, we'll be in South America long before they can even drum up a posse."

"This means that much to the two of you?"

"Does it not mean that much to you?" Heyes asked, pointing at the paper in Lom's hand.

Taking a minute or two to think, he methodically folded the paper and placed it in his breast pocket, followed by the star from his chest. Leaning over the table, he lowered his voice. "There's a little town in Arizona, just this side of the border, called Nogales. When I know something, I'll send a letter to Joshua Smith and Thaddeus Jones. If things don't look good, I'll send it by telegraph. If I do it that way, you get across the border, and fast."

Without another word, he stood, taking his badge out of his pocket he pinned it back on his vest. With gun in hand, he turned and left the saloon.

* * *

"Heyes!" Kid called out as he saw the rider in the distance. With his binoculars, he made doubly sure it was Lee Johnson, a local kid they'd paid $10 to hang out at the telegraph office and stage depot.

Coming out of the abandoned shack, Heyes tied his gun belt down. "He's movin' awfully fast, you don't think he has a posse behind him?"

Kid scanned the horizon, nothing but red dirt and cacti as far as the eye could see. "If there is a posse, they're staying out of sight."

As the young boy came off his horse, the outlaws greeted him. "It just came through." He handed the men the envelope. Before they turned away, he cleared his throat. "Uh, remember. You said $10 for hanging out in town and another five when word came through."

"You heard him Thaddeus, that is what you agreed to." Heyes smiled, devilishly.

Digging deep into his pocket, he pulled out a few bills. With the five in Lee's hand, he stuffed the remaining two in his pocket. "Did anyone else follow you out?"

"No sir, I did just what you said. Collected the letter and came straight out here. I checked behind me twice." He shrugged. "Not sure why, nuthin' interesting in what was sent."

"You opened it?"

"You just paid me to bring it out. If you didn't want me to read it, you should'a said so, it'd only been an extra dollar."

"You, uh, plan on mentioning what you read to anyone once you get to town?" Kid asked.

"Depends."

"Depends! On what?"

"Whether or not you pay me those other two dollars."

Shoving his remaining money in the boy's hand, he pushed him towards his horse.

"Nice doing business with you, mister!" With a kick of his boots, he rode back towards town.

"I'm starting to understand why the prices on our heads are so high." Turning back, he sees Heyes smiling. "You think that was funny?"

"It was, but that's not why I'm smiling."

Kid took the letter and read aloud. "To Joshua Smith and Thaddeus Jones. The Governor has considered your request and is in the process of taking action. He has sent men to investigate and will be taking action once your suspicions are confirmed. Meanwhile, Porterville will be aiding in this endeavor." From the envelope he pulled out another sheet of paper, the Porterville Star, on the front page was an article. "Local church starting drive to find and secure loving homes to orphans in Wyoming." Heyes looked up, "Kid, he did it!"

Kid's smile faded, "Heyes, the War Department paid a lot for those boys, you think they are just going to give that up?"

"Kid, Lom just made it where they don't have a choice. If they can find loving homes, how are they going to justify saying no?"

Kid's smile widened, "Heyes, you know, you might really be a genius after all!"


End file.
